F  king Strawberry
by aliform
Summary: The Kazekage sighed and rubbed his temple. He really did have a lot of work to do. He couldn't get Temari to distract Ino, right now, and he couldn't summon the guards to get rid of her-he saved that for very special circumstances. T 'cause Ino says f-k.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Aaaand for lack of a better name:**

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Fucking Strawberry

"Fucking strawberry!" Ino groused not so quietly as she fell onto the Kazekage's couch, her stomach swollen with her yet-to-be-born child, and her husband sitting, nonchalant, over a pile of paperwork at his desk.

Gaara continued writing, successfully hiding his mild surprise at his wife's use of expletives. It was only slightly out of character- she wasn't known for her purple prose- but she rarely resorted to such explicit profanity- she was involved in enough politics now that it wasn't a good habit.

Ino huffed at his lack of response, trying to quickly and dramatically sit up to face him- a task which was squandered by her extra bulk. She crossed her arms, and stared fixedly at him.

Gaara continued writing.

"Can't you _pretend_ to be angry, at least, Gaara?" she whined, her arms dropping from their prop over her stomach and falling to bounce upon the cushions.

The Kazekage sighed and rubbed his temple. He really _did_ have a lot of work to do. He couldn't get Temari to distract Ino, right now, and he couldn't summon the guards to get rid of her (he saved that for very special circumstances), which left him with his last option. He'd have to put up with her whining until she was contented and then she'd part of her own accord. Mumbling under his breath, he made his way over to his spouse, oblivious to the smile that had broken out on her countenance.

He sat down next to her, and allowed her to grasp his hand. Gaara really did appreciate his wife. He really _really_ did. He would even go as far as saying he loved her (quite a feat, given his childhood.) He just really hated the hormones that hauled her constant bickering into overdrive. And god was he fucking _terrified_ of being a father. He was _beyond_ terrified. He assumed Ino knew this, given his response at the news she was pregnant. He threw a glance at the window above his desk as if to apologize. To be fair, he had been having a horrible day, and the announcement had taken him _completely _off guard.

"So _are_ you angry?" Ino asked.

He debated saying yes, but then he'd have to pretend that he knew what she was talking about. "What is there to be angry about?"

Ino blinked, and Gaara thought he could feel her hand begin to recede from his. He held on tighter. "Were you listening at _all_ to what I was saying?"

He winced. This was not good. "Well," he attempted, "I heard a bit about Sakura..." He sighed, throwing a desperate look at his livid wife. He sighed again, and then conceded, "No."

Ino glared, and Gaara couldn't help but look away. _Some Kazekage, can't even look at his own wife in the eye. _He scoffed at his inner-self. Before Ino could muster up something to combat his disregard of her complaints, he prompted her, hopeful that at a reminder of the _original _prompt would make her forget that she was mad at him. "What are you so worked up about?"

That was all she needed. The kunoichi jumped into a tirade about something or another that Gaara didn't bother keeping up with. Instead he just admired the way that his wife's hair brushed gently up against her cheek, except for the particularly dramatic parts of the saga at which she would bounce back into the couch, and the strand would fly up into the air, and whip back down at her cheek again. He so wished that he had more time to spend with her than he did. Being Kazekage really did eat up his time. Evenings alone and the odd weekend were the best he could do, plus the occasional time like these when she'd bully her way past the guards and sit on the couch in his study to update him on the latest. It seemed that the later on in her pregnancy, the more often she'd been joining him as he did the daily paperwork. He wondered if this was due to the fact that the guards had warmed up to her, or because the hormones were making her more capable of intimidation. He inwardly shrugged, tuning himself back into her monologue, still keeping a tight hold on her hand.

"So, basically," Ino exhaled, placing an affectionate hand on her womb "Sakura is not going to be able to be here for another two months, _which means_ she'll probably be here to _birth _Chiyo, but all the icky stuff before that-" she made a face, "will be done by some intern she's sending over named Katsumi. I've never heard of her before, and to be perfectly honest, she just sound sketchy to me. But, really, Sakura's got some nerve to go and get _married_ without _me_ there. Some best frie-"

Her ramblings were silenced by the Kazekage unsuspectingly pressing his lips up against hers. She sighed, allowing her eyes to feather closed as he kissed her once more. She groaned when he pulled away from her, and she felt her arms grope out to pull his body against hers, to no avail. He had walked over to another chair in the room and grabbed a blanket.

"Ino," he said, turning around and thrusting the coverings into her arms. "You look exhausted."

His wife blinked, having completely forgotten what she was talking about just moments before. "You're not going to kick me out?"

He sighed, and she swore she saw a ghost of a smile on his face. "So long as you let me work."

She smiled at him, reclining onto the couch and pulling the blanket over her aching body. "I will," she said in a tone that advocated the complete opposite.

Gaara blinked. "Seriously, Ino. I need to get all this done if I'm hoping for any paternity leave after Chiyo's born."

Ino sighed into the pillow. "And gosh do you deserve a break."

He nodded, "You can say that again."

"And gosh do you deserve a break," she repeated through a yawn, allowing herself to drift off.

Gaara stood, immobile, a few feet from the couch, watching his wife's form rise and fall with each breath and that one strand of hair continually flutter about her cheek. He sat down at a chair across from her, throwing a glace at his desk wondering just how much he would _really_ get done that day.

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**A/N: So, it's been a while, folks, but nothing's really changed- I still want you to enjoy & review :)**


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